


Dirty Little Secret

by bepreparedf0rhell



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Double Penetration, Justin is a beefy idiot, M/M, Ricky wants what he wants, Smut, and Chris just kind of caught a ride on the horny train, just boys being boys u kno, that’s it that’s the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bepreparedf0rhell/pseuds/bepreparedf0rhell
Summary: In which Ricky just wants what he wants.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Justin Morrow/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 16





	Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened. I don’t really have an explanation and I’m not sorry. They’re just idiots Doing The Thing.

“You want to… what?” Chris sounds surprised, confused, and both Justin and Ricky smirk at him cheekily. 

“You heard,” Ricky says, shrugging. He looks up at Justin beside him, and he shrugs too. “I want… both of you. At the same time.”

Chris takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. The second Justin and Ricky, the fucking demon twins, had approached him and pulled him off to the side into the back lounge of the bus, he’d known he was in for some bullshit. Somehow, he’d never expected what Ricky had actually just said to him.

“We… how would that even work? I don’t…” Chris trails off, trying to figure out the logistics in his brain. He and Ricky have been fucking for years. He knows Ricky, knows Ricky’s body, knows how small and delicate his angles are. He also knows that Ricky likes pain to an extent, likes trying new things. But this… this seems potentially impossible?

“It would take some finessing. It wouldn’t be a quick ‘wham, bam’ kind of thing, obviously,” Justin pipes up, and Chris looks up at him, studies his eyes. Chris and Justin have also hooked up a couple of times. Chris doesn’t know Justin as well as he knows Ricky biblically, but he does know… enough. Justin’s thick, not just in thighs and ass. Justin’s thick… everywhere, and though Chris doesn’t really think enough of himself to say that he is also… well, he is also. 

“I want it, Chris. It was my idea,” Ricky says, and Chris shrugs. 

“Okay,” Chris says, and he can’t deny the bulge that’s suddenly developed in his pants. He’s ridiculously attracted to both Justin and Ricky - how couldn’t he be, and when he stops overthinking it, the idea absolutely does intrigue him. “When?”

“Tonight,” Ricky says at once, and Chris’ eyes flutter up to him to see he’s squirming like he wishes they could do it right that second. Chris is very quickly getting to that place too.

“And you’re on board?” Chris asks Justin, who looks like he might just be about to drool on the floor.

“I’m… I’m on board,” he says, his voice deliciously raspy suddenly. 

“Okay. Tonight.”

The next few hours go by agonizingly slowly. Chris isn’t sure an amount of time has ever dragged quite as much in his entire life. They do their Meet & Greet, play their show, and even go out to dinner after. Chris doesn’t pay a lick of attention to any of it. He feels bad for being a little absent during the show, but how the fuck wouldn’t he be? He’s pretty sure that if the fans knew what he was about to be doing, they’d understand.

When he’s finally able to stumble through the hotel and dump his shit in his room, he’s basically vibrating. He’d been nervous about the concept at first, hesitant, but now? Now, he’s never been more excited for anything in his entire life. 

Admittedly, there’s still a pit of nerves deep in his stomach. He’s still not sure how exactly everything’s going to work - he’s definitely never done anything like it before, but it doesn’t matter. In fact, he wishes Justin and Ricky were already there so they could just get the fucking thing started.

Finally, fucking finally, there’s a knock on his door a little while later. Chris crosses the room to see Ricky standing in the hallway swaying back and forth lightly, a calm and serene look on his face. He’s clutching a bottle of alcohol that Chris can’t make out because he’s got it hugged close to his chest, and Chris thinks it’s a pretty safe guess that Ricky’s already had some of whatever it is. 

As Chris is just about to swing the door open, Justin appears from the other side of the hallway. He greets Ricky and then bends down and connects their lips softly. Chris licks his lips, watching them intently. Ricky’s kissing Justin back, his tongue slipping into his mouth. 

Unable to take it a second longer, Chris whips the door open and reaches for both of them, yanking them inside. Justin ends up closer to him, so he’s smashing his lips on his. Justin kisses him back immediately, arms wrapping around him and hands tugging at his clothes, clumsily trying to get them off of him.

“Take your fucking shirt off, jesus christ,” Justin grumbles a second later, clearly annoyed. Chris rolls his eyes and chuckles quietly, yanking the fabric over his head. Justin’s back on him in a moment, lips all over his face and hands grabbing anything they can get a hold on. Clearly, he’s been thinking about this just as much as Chris has. 

“Hey, dipshits, I’m the star here, remember?” Ricky questions, and a laugh bubbles up out of Chris’ throat and into Justin’s mouth. 

“Yeah, and I’m the one you sprang it on and let get all fucked up over it all day,” Chris says, turning on Ricky and reaching for him. “I’ve had a fucking hard-on for six hours. Do you know how much that shit sucks?” 

“I do,” Justin pipes up from behind them, making Chris laugh quietly again.

“Yeah, because I’ve just been feeling perfectly casual about it,” Ricky says in a dramatic pouty voice. Chris sticks his lower lip out in a pout and reaches for Ricky, pulling him close. Sure enough, Chris can absolutely feel Ricky’s hard dick even through the layers of both of their pants. 

“You’ll get what you want, Horror, don’t worry,” Chris mumbles, leaning down to catch his lips. 

They spend the next little while trying to establish the dynamic between the three of them. Clothes fly off in every direction and it’s clumsy and awkward and leads to both Chris and Justin also taking swigs from the bottle of whiskey Ricky’d brought with him, but eventually everything starts to fall into place. They get into a rhythm that has everybody getting attention, has everybody getting some sort of something. 

“You ready?” Chris asks Ricky once he’s pretty sure it’s time, and Ricky doesn’t respond right away because he’s currently writhing around on the bed quietly repeating Justin’s name, who just so happens to be kneeling on the floor with Ricky’s dick halfway down his throat. 

“Mm… yeah,” Ricky says breathlessly finally, his blue eyes opening and focusing on Chris. “Yeah… please.”

Justin pulls off of him and Ricky lets out a little whimper that almost makes Chris blow his load right then and there. God, Ricky’s so fucking pretty like this, all fucked out and needy, so ready for whatever happens next.

Justin stands, stretches his limbs slightly, and watches with Chris as Ricky flips over, ass in the air. Chris reaches for Justin just for good measure, knotting a hand in his hair and pulling his head in close, kissing him slowly. Justin’s hand is on Chris’ dick suddenly, surprising him but making him lean down into the touch nonetheless.

“Over there,” Chris mumbles against Justin’s lips, pointing to the table at the side of the bed. Justin glances, catches sight of the bottle of lube Chris thought to sit out earlier in the night. Justin nods and breaks their kiss, making his way to grab it. 

While he’s gone, Chris gets his hands on Ricky. He pets his soft hair, reaches around front to caress his cheek, letting his hand fall to his shoulder just so that he can run it down the soft skin of his back. Ricky’s squirming like he’s about to just fuck himself if Chris and Justin don’t hurry up, and Chris smiles down at him. 

Justin appears back at his side, hands him the lube. Chris would’ve been fine if Justin had gone first, if he’d been the one to kick things off, but since Justin seems to be all but telling him to do it, he’s also fine with that. He reaches for Ricky again, his dick twitching at how Ricky’s entire body seems to move towards his touch just a little bit. 

“Ready?” he asks quietly, and Ricky’s nodding before Chris is even totally sure he’s fully said the word. He cups Ricky’s ass, Ricky’s cute little perky ass, and then pulls his hand back and smacks it gently. Ricky whimpers, and Chris motions for Justin to go around to the front of him. It takes Justin a second; judging by the look on his face he’s feeling just about as cloudy-headed as Chris is. Eventually, though, Justin moves around to Ricky’s head, positions himself in the right place. Ricky takes the hint and takes Justin’s dick into his mouth, making all three of them let out some sort of small noise. 

“Fuck,” Chris whispers, his attention going back to Ricky. He thumbs the perimeter of Ricky’s hole, making sure Ricky can feel every little flick of his finger. Lube in his other hand, he lets a stream of it run down his hand and over Ricky, the cold shock of it making both of them jump just slightly. 

“Yeah… take it,” Justin sounds blissed out already and Chris is halfway afraid he’s going to come long before they’re able to do what they’re actually meant to be doing here. 

Chris watches, getting a feel for Ricky’s rhythm on Justin’s dick, and eventually slips his finger into Ricky right as Justin’s deepest in his mouth. Ricky moans loudly, and Chris watches as Justin throws his head back in pleasure. 

Chris works him for a while, one finger, then two, then three, eventually four. Ricky and Justin are both moaning loudly, squirming and mumbling incoherent praise for each other, themselves, anyone who’s listening. Finally, Chris can’t stand it any longer. 

“Justin,” he says quietly, and Justin’s dark eyes snap open, his face pale and looking like all the blood in his entire body is pooled in his dick. “He’s ready, come fuck him,” Chris says, and Justin doesn’t need to be told even halfway twice. He’s moving at once, pulling his dick from Ricky’s mouth and switching places with Chris wordlessly. 

Chris watches, waiting until Justin’s buried deep inside Ricky before making any other moves.

“Give me… I need…” Ricky whines, looking up at Chris with a look that’s almost pornographic just on its own. “Please…” 

Chris obliges as soon as he’s able to force his body to move, taking up the same space Justin had just been in. Ricky sets to work at once, working Chris’ dick into his mouth and sucking on it like his goddamn life depends on it. Chris lets out a cry that he doesn’t even recognize as himself, the sensation too good for him to even really focus on anything at all, let alone letting out noises he might typically be embarrassed of. 

He gets stuck watching Justin fucking Ricky, watching the way Justin’s muscular body moves and feeling it every time Ricky changes his pace as a reaction to something particularly good Justin’s done. He watches as Justin starts working with his hands as well as his dick, slipping fingers into Ricky around himself. Ricky’s so caught up in the pleasure that he lets Chris fall out of his mouth seemingly subconsciously, and though Chris feels his mouth’s absence at once and is desperate for it back, instead he moves to where he can see Ricky’s face a little bit better. 

“You really are just a little slut, aren’t you?” Chris asks, and Ricky nods at once. “Tell me what you want,” Chris commands, taking Ricky’s chin in his hand, angling it up towards him. Ricky’s blue eyes are watery, red-rimmed and his lips are swollen in a way that makes Chris want to bite them.

“I… I want… oh, fuck. I want you. I want both of you,” Chris’ eyes dart up to Justin, who’s watching him intently. Justin nods, and that’s all Chris needs. He plants a soft kiss on Ricky’s lips, watching a second later as Justin pulls out of him and takes a step back.

“Come here,” Chris says to Ricky, lying back on the bed with his legs hanging over the edge, shoving a pillow under his head so that he can see Ricky’s face. Ricky climbs on top of him, clearly unsteady from what Chris can only assume is a mixture of everything that’s already happened and what’s about to happen. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, steadying Ricky with a hand on either of his hips. “Come on.”

Ricky steadies himself and Chris feels Justin reaching down, taking his dick in his hand. He closes his eyes, gripping Ricky harder. Justin helps to guide his dick, and as soon as he’s inside Ricky, Chris has to consciously keep himself from coming immediately. Ricky’s body is shaking, his top half fallen forward over Chris, his long hair hanging down in Chris’ face, and everything about it’s just too fucking good. 

“J-Justin,” Ricky groans, and Chris opens his eyes to see he’s upright again, twisted so that he can kiss Justin. Again, Chris finds himself having a hard time holding on. He adds how much he likes to watch Justin and Ricky kiss to some mental list to save for later, snapping himself back to reality. 

Justin’s arms circle around Ricky’s front and for a few moments he seems to just be content with guiding Ricky up and down on Chris’ dick, making sure everyone’s good and ready for what’s about to happen.

“J… please,” Chris rasps out, surprising himself. He’d been so caught up in how Ricky was going to look, how Ricky was going to feel, he hadn’t even really thought about how fucking good Justin’s dick was going to feel pressed up against his. Now, it’s all he can think about and he needs it fucking desperately. 

Justin glances at him over Ricky’s shoulder, his dark eyes a mask of pleasure and authority and he nods, moving around until he’s in a position that works. Ricky collapses down towards Chris once more, giving Justin as much access as he can. 

Chris watches Ricky’s eyes, those fucking beautiful blue eyes. He feels it a second later when Justin’s dick appears beside his. He closes his eyes, grits his teeth. God, Justin feels fucking good and he’s barely even done anything yet. There’s pressure and Ricky’s whining, tears filling his eyes. Chris keeps studying him to the best of his ability, but the more he can feel Justin’s dick, the more he’s pretty sure he’s having a fucking brain anuerysm. 

The next few moments as things settle into place feel like they take years. Justin’s fully inside Ricky, his dick pressed snugly against Chris’ and Ricky’s full-on crying, but Chris doesn’t think for a second it’s from anything other than blind pleasure because he’s crying, literally openly sobbing, but he’s also riding their dicks like it’s the only thing he’s got left in the world. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Chris manages, stars bursting in his eyes. He closes them tightly, takes a deep breath that doesn’t help even a little bit. Between the noises Ricky’s making and how Justin’s doing everything exactly fucking right, Chris is positive he’s going to come soon. There’s not going to be any holding out, any trying to last longer. 

He reaches up, takes Ricky’s dick in his hand. Ricky yelps, throwing his head back into Justin’s shoulder hard. Justin doesn’t even flinch and his hand appears on Ricky’s hip where Chris’ just left. At this point Chris is pretty sure Justin is the only thing keeping the whole thing from falling completely apart. 

Chris works Ricky through a couple of strokes, knowing damn well none of them are going to last much longer. Ricky’s already leaked so much precome onto Chris’ stomach he’s not sure there’ll even be anything left, and even through everything else that’s happening, he can feel Justin’s dick swelling even more, pulsing with his impending orgasm.

Time stands still and also moves at fucking lightning speed as they all come within moments of each other seconds later. Ricky goes first, a combination of the fucking and also Chris’ hand on his dick pushing him over the edge violently. He shakes and writhes, Justin’s arm appearing around his stomach to hold him in place. 

Chris starts to go a second later, and he’s pretty sure he and Justin end up exploding at about exactly the same time. Moans and screams fill the room, all three of them reduced to shaking messes as they work each other down. 

Justin pulls out of Ricky gingerly, immediately stepping around to collapse beside Chris on the bed. Ricky rises off of Chris’ lap almost agonizingly slowly, and Chris reaches for him to steady him as he steps on the floor with legs that surely must feel like they’re made of nothing more than water. Ricky mirrors Justin’s movement, taking up the space on the other side of Chris. 

The three of them stare at the ceiling panting and shivering for quite a while, none of them saying a word. Finally, Justin breaks the silence. 

“Is it just me or was that, uh…” he trails off, and Chris starts speaking right away, feeling like his tongue is made of lead.

“Don’t talk to me. My brain melted out my ears.”

“Rick, you alive over there?” Justin asks, and Ricky groans quietly in response.

“I’m honestly not sure,” he mumbles, his breathing clearly still ragged. “But also, uh… we’re doing that again.”

“Yep,” Justin and Chris both speak up at the same time, making all three of them laugh quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> wheresyoursavior.tumblr.com


End file.
